I am now only posting poetry at wordpress.com

Some people pretend. They pretend with all of their being to the point where it just feels right to them. It is sort of a false transcendence and it is a false piety and, at the same time, it’s shallow. Some people pretend. And it all feels “real” to them. And they rise above and smile down. Man, they really get it. Don’t they? And it feels so real with all those that surround them echoing the praise. And it feels so good. It just feels so real. And it is all a game, isn’t it? It’s all just the manifestation of some aboriginal fiction. And mixed with new fiction. And with a touch of made up fact. But all seems so real and it feels so good. And everyone around me just digs me and their bubbles all move closer to mine and mine to theirs. Hey, it’s peaceful in my bubble. And it feels so good.